This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook
may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like
to share this ebook with another person, please purchase another copy
for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this ebook and
did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then
you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard
work of this author.

Chapter One

An older half-orc
looked at me through one of the building’s windows. He was wearing
a brightly colored coat and had a short sword hanging at his side.

“Just
wondering if it would be a good idea to join the Free
Companies,” I replied. “I’m not sure if I’m a good fit.”

“What are we
talking through the window for?” The half-orc gestured me toward
the door. “Come on in, son, and we can talk it out together.”

I
walked in. If
it has to do with the military, it really is all the same. The
only difference between the building I was in and my old enlistment
office was that there were large paintings on the walls in place of
posters. But the idea was the same: faster, farther, higher.

“Welcome
to the Wild Brigade
Recruitment Center,” the half-orc said, walking out into the
corridor. “It’s a great spot to find something worthwhile and
interesting to keep you busy for a year, two, or even more, depending
on the contract we sign. Fond memories and fascinating adventures are
guaranteed.”

The half-orc walked
over to me, his right foot dragging a little, and held out his hand.

“Sergeant Rourk,
son. Free Company veteran. What’s your name?”

“Laird Hagen of
Tronje, third son of my father.” I shook his hand.

“Third
son.” The sergeant shook his head knowingly. “A blade, some
clothes, and an old nag is all you got when your old man kicked the
bucket, am I right? I’ve heard that story before.You
were made for us, my friend. Consider yourself at home. A little
service under your belt,
and your oldest brother will have nothing on you. You’ll march back
to your Tronje with money and loot, and all he’ll be able to do is
gnaw his toenails in envy!”

He was overselling
his case, I thought. Sure, his job was to get volunteers signed up,
but the whole thing sounded too good to be true.

“That’s
all well and good,” I replied, smiling at the sergeant, “but I
still have some questions. I’d like to know what the conditions
are—how
much you pay, how it works,
when I’d start, what I get besides the pay, and where I’d be
serving.”

A
hint of disappointment flashed across the sergeant’s eyes,
presumably when he realized I wasn’t as easy a prospect as he first
thought.Come
on,
his eyes said, why
do these rednecks have to be so picky these days? Things aren’t the
way they used to be, now that you have to explain the whole thing,
show them, let them try it out…

“That
is your legal right, son,” the half-orc
said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Let’s head over to my
office.”

Rourk
walked toward the door he’d stepped out of. I heard his right leg
scrape with each stride—a prosthetic limb. What
a great advertisement for the Free Companies he is…

Once in the office,
which was scantily furnished with a table, two chairs, and a lone
wardrobe, Sergeant Rourk motioned toward a chair and jumped into his
spiel about life in the Free Companies.

He
was obviously painting a picture with brighter colors than he may
have had license
to use, but his story was interesting enough to see why the Free
Companies weren’t such a bad place to be.

The
Wild Brigade formed almost immediately after the gods left Fayroll.
The problem was that many gods, in their feuding over the hearts and
souls of their flocks, threw caution, morals, and ethics to the wind.
They created and unleashed a variety of undead and other evil spirits
into the world in order to weaken the forces commanded by their
opponents.

The
gods left Fayroll, though their malicious creations did not.And,
given the fact that some of the gods both erroneously and
presumptuously considered themselves more demiurges than gods, their
creatures began to multiply. Some of them attained such numbers that
the threat of genocide began to loom over the humanoid races.

That’s
when the Fayroll rulers realized how bad things were and rallied all
the heroes
of Rattermark to come save them.However,
the War of Magic and the Second War of Hatred had left the continent
largely bereft of those heroes. The ones who remained were tired of
wandering the lands saving people
and simply dreamed of having their own little kingdom they could rule
in peace.

As
time went on, the situation only worsened. Roads become more and more
dangerous,
and villages and even small cities were subject to constant attacks
by bloodthirsty beasts. But then, something unexpected happened.

Richard
the Fifth, also called Richard the Spiritual, the ruler of the West,
had an advisor by the name of Arman Plessy, and Arman came up with a
plan.He
drew up a decree, signed by the king, that declared even the most
hardened criminals had the right to leniency
under the law—including a reprieve from the executioner’s noose
or axe—if they spent three years fighting to protect peaceful
people by clearing the roads, forests, and swamps of the departed
gods’ evil spawn.If
they did their jobs well and honestly, a royal pardon, a plot of
land, and a loan to develop it waited for them on the other side.Professional
soldiers and royal veterans were put in charge of the rabble.

Strange
as it
may seem, the decree turned out to be hugely popular.Plenty
of murderers and other societal cancers signed up for the adjustment
squad (as the Wild Brigade was
first called), and they fought fervently
and diligently.Small
groups of them traveled the West looking for and destroying the magic
scourge born in the inhuman minds of NPCs and the imagination of the
developers.They
even dealt a blow to the vermin native to Fayroll, figuring sensibly
that they’d have to take care of them sooner or later—so what did
it matter?

Ten
or fifteen years later, all the more exotic creatures living in the
West had been dispatched to the next
world, though the Wild Brigade stuck around. They were growing, and
even swelling their ranks with people who had no criminal past.The
Sultan
of the East and the princes of the South happily paid the former
thugs in gold to take care of their problems. The northerners, who
all knew how to handle a weapon, took care of their problems
themselves.

Adventurers,
former soldiers, and even romantics signed on to serve
in the Wild Brigade, as it had come to be known.The
pay was good; recruits were taught how to fight well;
and
retirement meant honor
and respect
since city guards all around Rattermark hired veterans whose service
time was up. Plus, while land was no longer part of the offer, the
royal pardon was.The
Wild Brigade remained under the jurisdiction of the king of the West,
though it became, in practice, an independent unit paying 10% of each
contract amount to the king.Recruits
also began to be divided by how they signed up: new volunteers from
the prisons were assigned to the Wild Brigade as usual, while
civilians made their way to the Free Companies.The
latter were
still part of the Wild Brigade; they just enjoyed more privileges and
a somewhat different status. There were ten Free Companies with 100
troops in each.

It
was the Free Companies Sergeant Rourk was trying to get me to sign up
for.He
scraped his wooden leg around, waved his arms, and described all the
tempting prospects I had to look forward to. In a year, not to
mention three, the Free Companies would make me more a superhero than
a man.He
skipped over what their casualty rates were, obviously, but I
couldn’t help but note that the companies always had slots open
regardless of the fact that there were only 1,000 of them in total.

“I
have a question,”
I said.

The sergeant looked
at me, amazed that I wasn’t racing to sign the contract after all
the information he’d dumped on me.

“How do I sign on
with a company heading down to fight in the South?”

“Why the South?”
His look turned to confusion.

“Just a dream I’ve
always had—seeing the South,” I said, rolling my eyes wistfully.
“It’s warm, there are plenty of exotic fruits, and they say the
girls are stunning.”

“All true,” the
sergeant grunted. “Also, the beasts are poisonous, the jungles are
impassable, there are lots of cursed areas, and the diseases are
nasty. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Absolutely,”
I replied resolutely. “It’s either the South
or I won’t be signing anything. I have plenty of other things to
do, needless to say. But let’s go back to those conditions, too.
What are they?”

“We
can send you south, that’s easy enough. The Seventh Company is
heading to Dinjir the day after tomorrow, and I think they have slots
open. But about the conditions… You get 50
gold per week, food,
a uniform, a weapon if you don’t have one, and medicine or a
funeral if you need it. One day off a week. If you sign a three-year
contract, we pay out 500 gold as a bonus each year.”

“Sounds good. And
what are the requirements?”

The
half-orc glanced at me approvingly.
“It’s simple; follow orders quickly, exactly, and on time. Do the
work, and don’t be a coward in battle. That’s it.”

“Right,
soldiers shouldn’t
think too much; they have to fight,” I agreed. “So everyone’s
heading south the day after tomorrow.”

Rourk nodded.

“One
more question,” I said, having just about forgotten to ask it.
“What about terminating contracts with the Free Companies? You
know, if it just isn’t working out.
Can you do that?”

“That
doesn’t happen very often,” the sergeant said with a shrug,
“though it does happen. The only
way out of the Wild Brigade, of course, is to get dumped back in
prison. You can buy your way out of the Free Companies, on the other
hand, though it isn’t cheap. There’s a one-time fee of 50,000
gold.”

“Ten in the
morning. But we’d have to sign the contract first, so come at least
half an hour earlier.”

“Rourk, let’s
say this,” I responded, pounding the table with my open palm. “If
I decide to join, I’ll be here at nine the day after tomorrow. If
I’m not here, that means I decided against it. Does that work for
you?”

The
half-orc nodded.
“You’re obviously an experienced warrior,” he said
flatteringly. “Of course, you need to think. This is the army, not
a walk in the park.”

We got up and shook
hands.

***

The smell of pies
and something else delicious met me at home.

“What’s this
for?” I asked Vika in surprise, finding her running around the
kitchen covered in flour.

“Did
you forget?” She stared at me reproachfully. “I told you on
Tuesday that Elmira
would be coming today. You’re the one who wanted to do this, after
all.”

I
searched my memory, but couldn’t come up with anything. She
probably had told me, and I just hadn’t paid much attention. I did
remember my suggestion to invite her over. But
whatever, it doesn’t matter.

“Whatever you say,
sweetie.” I had no desire to get in the middle of what was clearly
a complex relationship. “What do you need me to do?”

“Stay
out of my way. Here, grab a few pies
and go relax in the other room.”

That was more than
good enough for me, so I obeyed happily.

To
be honest, I
wasn’t a big fan of family get-togethers. Sure, it looked great in
the movies when you had a huge family all drinking tea together,
shooting the breeze, and sharing all their joys and sorrows with each
other.That
may have been common twenty or thirty years before and may still have
gone on in some patriarchal corner of smaller cities, but not in the
capital, with its high-speed way of life, disconnection, and drive to
earn as much sweet moolah as you could while leaving as little as
possible for everyone else. In that context, even family ties could
hold you back.

Hunting
alone, or at least in pairs, made survival a much better proposition.That
was why even small families only got together for major holidays, and
it was why family clans had all but disappeared. There were some
families that stuck together, but that was just for Timur Kizyakov
1and
his umpteen years of dropping by strange homes. They only agreed to
let him in because it was their one brief moment of televised fame.In
my case, while I sort of knew
my cousins, I had no idea who there was beyond them… It was nothing
to be proud of—just a sign of the times.

Vika’s
sister turned out to be an excellent young woman. She was attractive,
had a decent sense of humor, and wasn’t nearly as obsessed with the
game as I’d heard, at least judging by the fact that she didn’t
mention it once.Fayroll
didn’t even come up once in our conversation, save for a mention of
where Vika and I worked.Elmira
was happy to talk about her career as a teacher, and she enjoyed
listening to and laughing at our journalism stories. (They were
mostly mine, as Vika hadn’t been in
the field long enough to build up a supply of her own. But I knew
another year or two working with our three stooges, and especially
Yushkov,
would more than do the trick.)The
only thing that surprised me was that she turned down all the alcohol
I offered, and even quite sharply. Vika just nodded slightly when I
looked at her in surprise. Am
I missing something? Anyway,
if she didn’t want any, she didn’t have to drink it.

“All
right, I’m going to run,” Elmira
said a few hours later. “My sister’s in good hands, so I can
relax.”

“Oh,
because you were just
so worried!” Vika clapped her hands to her face. “You probably
even stayed awake at night thinking about me.”

Elmira
rolled her eyes in appreciation of her little sister’s attitude.

“You
poor guy, Harriton. I put in my time, and now it’s your turn to
live with her. Are
you sure you don’t want to change your mind before it’s too late?
You could still tell her to take a hike,” she said to me.

“Oh,
come on,” I smiled. “I’ve seen it all;
you can’t scare me.”

“Are
you sure?” Elmira
squinted. “There’s always something.”

“Elmira,
stop it,” Vika scowled. “You’ve been on me since we were kids.”

“Let
me drive you home,” I said to Elmira,
catching a note of frustration in Vika’s voice. It looked like
she’d been on pins and needles all evening, and I’d caught her
frowning once when her sister laughed uproariously at one of my
stories.I
had a sneaking suspicion that she was regretting taking me up on my
offer to invite Elmira over.

“That
would be great, especially since it looks like it’s raining,”
Elmira
replied, giving in without a fight.

Vika pursed her
lips, though she didn’t say anything.

***

Elmira
sat down in the back seat of the car, which did surprise me a little.
I was about to go open the front door for her when she opened the
back one and plopped herself down.

“I
don’t like sitting up front,” she explained,
“not since I was a kid.”

Fall
that year was cold, with just a hint of an Indian summer;
a few sunny days before we jumped back into the constant wind and
rain. Sometimes, it was a drizzle; others, it was a downpour, but it
felt like there was always something coming down. There were also the
gray storm clouds hanging low over the earth and blocking out the
sun.

“I’m
so tired of those clouds,” Elmira
said suddenly. “They’re the worst.”

“Agreed,” I
responded. “I can’t remember the last time we saw the sun.”

“It isn’t just
that there’s no sun. They’re always there hanging over you, it’s
so depressing. And there aren’t any stars. Do you like looking at
the stars?”

“I don’t know,”
I answered honestly. “It’s been a while. Too much to do, I
guess.”

“Well,
why don’t we go to the planetarium and check them out? It’s so
romantic, taking a girl to the planetarium. Unusual. I mean, we could
go to the movies, or maybe a museum—we could go see a mammoth tusk.
But going to the planetarium is much more unusual.” There was a
bitter irony in Elmira’s
voice, though it morphed quickly into sarcasm.

The
Army
taught me to be ready for anything; my job taught me to think on my
feet;
and
the previous few months had left me incapable of surprise—and that
was a good thing. If things had been different, the steering wheel
might have slipped out of my hands.I
heard my own words thrown back at me largely unchanged from the way
I’d said them to a certain neurotic woman a week before. And
they say Moscow’s a big city…

I
probably should have said something like, “Wait, that’s you!”
or “Oh, my God, what a coincidence!” But
that type of thing just happens in cheap romance novels.

“Mammoths
definitely have their charms. The food at museums is better, too—they
sell sodas and eclairs. I still remember that from school field
trips.”

“Um, so the most
important thing at museums is the food? That I did not know.”

“The
food
is always most important,” I noted instructively. “At museums, at
the theater—especially if they’re showing a tragedy—and even at
the circus. Not to mention the ballet and opera, since the food is
the only thing that gets you through them.”

Elmira
was silent for a second. I figured she probably wasn’t musing to
herself about the finer points of food within the context of modern
art; she was more likely working through what had just happened.
She’d probably been expecting a different reaction and was trying
to decide if she was wrong or if I was just stupid.

I
thought to myself,
as well, Really,
the whole thing is funny; I’m sleeping with my clan
leader’s
sister. Though
if I’d tried to explain the situation to a normal person who didn’t
really know anything about life online, the only answer I probably
would have gotten would have been, so
what?

That
was a pretty reasonable response, too. However, the fact that my clan
leader had been going off the deep end meant that I had no idea what
to expect, up to and including a pair of cuticle scissors in my
neck…from the back seat.

“We’re
here.” I rolled to a stop next to Elmira’s
apartment building. “Vika told me how to get here.”

Her
two hands snaked their way onto my shoulders.
“You know what’s going on, Hagen,” she hissed in my ear. “You
know who I am. Why, why do you need that kid? What does she have that
I don’t? What do you want that I can’t give you? You’re lucky,
you have the paper, and you have your connections—oh, I know you
have connections. That idiot told me plenty without even realizing
it. And I have my clan, my persistence… Just imagine what we could
do together!”

“Elmira,
you’re way too involved in the game.” I tried to pull her hands
off me. “Look out the window. There’s a life out there, a real
one, even if it is dark and gray right now. It’s not made out of
code; people build it themselves. What do you want to do? And where?”

“This is life,”
she continued, her hands reaching toward my throat and her lips
touching my ear. She smelled like cherries. “You and me. We’ll be
together in both worlds—forever. Do you really think all I’m good
for is teaching nonsense to kids who don’t need it? No, I can do
more, but I need someone to give me the strength for the leap,
someone I can do it all for.”

“So what’s the
problem?” I was starting to get worried. She wasn’t hysterical,
but there was a fanaticism in her hiss. “Look at all the nice guys
walking around out there. Pick any one of them.”

“Don’t
you get it? Don’t you understand?” A power suddenly filled her
arms. “What did you see in that idiot Vika? Why her? Sure, she’s
my sister, and I probably even loved her at some point. But she’s
trash. You just don’t know that yet
or haven’t noticed. Maybe
you don’t even want to see that she’s trash. All she has is her
ambition and that pretty little face. But you’re not stupid—that
I know for sure.”

I
was finally able to wrench myself away from her, so I turned around
in my seat. Elmira
jumped back to the other side of the back seat, where she looked at
me narrowly.

She really was
beautiful in the twilight. Her eyes were blue and flashing with
emotion, her face was delicate and pale, and her brown hair was
pulled back in a ponytail. She looked at me and waited for a
response.

“We’re
here,” I smiled. “I don’t think I’ll walk you up to your
apartment.
I wouldn’t want to give the neighbors a reason to gossip.”

It was quiet in the
car. She was waiting for me to say something else, and I’d already
decided that there was nothing else to talk about.

“Are
you sure you don’t want to come up with me? Positive? I’m
offering myself.
You’re welcome to come up right now,” she said calmly a minute
later. “But I’ll never open the door to you again no matter what
you say—that much I’ll tell you right now.”

“I’m sure that I
have someone waiting for me at home,” I explained gently. “My
girlfriend.”

I
sighed, already exhausted by the
obstacle course. My parents were great people, though Vika had no
idea what was waiting for her…

***

It was a normal,
sunny morning in Fayroll. The breeze blew clouds across the sky, and
the sun shone, as it always did in the North, somewhat weakly—almost
as if it was forcing its way through some kind of fabric.

Rourk
was smoking a pipe on the recruitment center porch. He waved when he
saw me.
“So you decided to go for it?” he bellowed grandly.

“Looks like it,”
I replied. “But only if you guarantee me that I’ll be sent
south.”

“A sergeant is
only as good as his word,” the half-orc replied proudly. “You’ll
be heading south all right. A few people will be coming over from the
Seventh Company, actually, so let’s go sign that contract.”

“Sounds good to
me,” I replied firmly. “For a year.”

He
pulled a scroll out of the wardrobe and slid it toward me.
“Just stick your finger here.” He pointed to a spot on the paper.

“Yeah, right,” I
laughed. “Not without reading it first.”

The
half-orc sniffed indignantly,
though I ignored him and leisurely read through the document to make
sure I would definitely be heading south. My old man always told me
to read everything before I signed it to make sure I wasn’t signing
a death warrant or a marriage certificate. And my old man wouldn’t
lead me wrong.

“Everything looks
good,” I told Rourk.

He
snorted. What
did you expect?

I imprinted my
finger on the document.

Congratulations!
You signed a
contract with the Wild Brigade.

From
this moment on, you serve in the Seventh Free
Company of the Wild Brigade.

Your service will
last one game year.

Service
in the Free Companies can be terminated before the end of your
service without penalties
if you pay the Wild Brigade 50,000 gold coins.

If
you desert (are absent from your company without good
reason for more than seven calendar days in the game), you will be
added to the brigade’s death list, with trackers sent to find and
kill you throughout the rest of your term of service.

You must:

Participate in
combat operations fought by the Free Companies

Submit
to the commanders of the Free
Companies and Wild Brigade

Take good care of
the uniform and equipment given to you

Quickly and
unquestioningly follow orders

You have the
right to:

A portion of all
trophies collected

Timely
payment of
the amount listed in your agreement

One day off per
week

To
be
buried at the expense of the Wild Brigade if you die on the
battlefield

When you log into
the game, you will find yourself with your company or with its
commander and the majority of its troops.

Joining
the Wild Brigade
earns you the following bonuses:

+3% experience
earned

+7% ability
to use edged weapons

+7% ability
to use ranged weapons

+2% protection
from cold

+2% protection
from fire

+3% ability
development speed

Title: Free
Company Warrior

Successful
service may result in additional bonuses being granted.

Growing
prestige in the eyes of your comrades and commanders, as well as
successful service, gives you a good chance of getting both usual and
hidden quests.Strong
prestige in the Free Companies also lets you call on comrades for
help completing quests unrelated to the Wild Brigade.

So I was back in the
army.

“What
are you just standing there for, soldier?” Rourk yelled at me. “Get
out there on the porch;
your fellow soldiers are already waiting!”

The
expression I saw in the sergeant’s eyes was one I hadn’t missed
in all my years away
from the Army, and it made me want to log out of the game—forever.
But…

“Yes,
sir, Sergeant,”
I answered before hurrying out of the recruitment center.

Chapter Two

In which the hero
remembers that all coins have two sides.

There
were six of my future comrades tramping around the porch. Five of
them were NPCs, though the sixth was just as much a player as I was.He
was a Level 64 elf archer named Fattah, and I was surprised to see
that he wasn’t in any of the clans.

“Hi, everyone!”
I waved. “My name’s Hagen.”

The group answered
discordantly as we greeted each other, sizing up the people we’d be
slaughtering enemies with at the orders of our commanders.

“What brings you
here?” Fattah walked over.

“Oh, just
curious,” I replied nonchalantly. “I read on the forums about how
you can get some nice hidden quests if you do the work.”

“It’s true,”
he nodded. “There’s that, though I’m here for the abilities.”

“What do you
mean?”

“If
you serve for a year using your profile weapon, follow the rules,
don’t get marked down, and fight well, the Wild Brigade commanders
give you a class ability.
You can’t learn it anywhere else, no matter how much you’re
willing to pay—it’s completely unique. And if you serve two
years, they give you another one.”

“But a year,
that’s a long time.” I shook my head.

“How long is your
contract for?”

“A year.”

“So
what’s the problem? You can’t jump ship before then anyway—well,
as long as you don’t get kicked out. Almost everyone does
since a year really is a long time. Very few people make it all the
way to the ability, but I will; I’m stubborn like that.”

“Respect,” I
replied without a hint of a joke. “I’m just going to see what
it’s like, and if I don’t like it, I’ll get out.”

Fattah
looked at me in surprise.
“What do you mean, get out? How? Are you some kind of underground
millionaire or a politician’s kid? You have an extra 50,000 lying
around?”

“If
I have to, I can find it,” I assured him. “Or maybe I’ll just
run off,
so I don’t have to pay anything.”

“You
can, but get used to dying,” Fattah said
seriously. “The Wild Brigade doesn’t send rookie trackers after
deserters; you’ll get professionals at Level 100 or higher. They’ll
chase you down wherever you are, and you won’t get a warning before
they finish you off. That’s it. They do that until you can buy them
off, but that costs even more money.”

Sounds
tricky, but what else is new? I
decided to wait until I got to the South and go from there.

Soon,
Rourk walked out onto the porch with an intense look on his face
and looked us over.

“Everyone here?
The list says there should be seven of you.”

We glanced around
and confirmed that yes, naturally, there were seven of us.

“Then
fall into line and jump into the portal I’m about to open one by
one. And look at me—if
you’re going to fight honorably, you can’t be hiding behind
someone else’s back like a coward.”

The portal flashed,
and we trooped our way through it. The North was behind me.

Wow,
this is muggy, was
my first thought when I walked out of the portal. After the crisp,
cool northern air, the oppressive humidity and smell of decaying
plants in the Southern atmosphere sent my mood spiraling downward in
a hurry.

“Damn,
it’s like a sauna,” muttered one of my companions, a big guy
named Silv.

“What were you
expecting?” Fattah noted philosophically. “This is the South, the
subtropics.”

Silv
didn’t look like he knew what the subtropics were, though he nodded
his head in agreement.

“There
are probably a ton of snakes around here,”
a halfling named Moldo said warily. I wasn’t sure what could have
brought him to the North, not to mention the recruitment center.

Nobody
had the chance to respond.
“Welcome to the heroic, legendary Seventh Free Company. Attention!”
came a shrill, squeaky voice.

Two
of my new comrades and I
reacted
instantly, our reflexes kicking in. The rest looked at each other,
clearly not sure what to do.

The
order had come from a small goblin, probably
of the mountain variety. That deduction was a matter of simple
logic—he spoke coherently and didn’t lick his lips when he looked
at us. He was dressed in a sleeveless camouflaged shirt and matching
hat. His mug, needless to say, was exactly as nasty-looking as one
might expect, and he was standing next to a large orc in an
oversized
jacket. The latter looked at us appraisingly, his hands clasped
behind his back.

“My gods, Falk,”
the orc said a minute later to the goblin. “Look at the rabble
joining the Free Companies these days. Sure, we had our bags of
manure in the old days, but not like this.”

“Agree
wholeheartedly, Master Grokkh,” the goblin replied subserviently.
“Now,
look at these wineskins full of all that—soft and wet.”

“And
I have to fight with this crap. How? Do you know how I’m going to
do that, Falk?”

“No idea, Master
Grokkh. I don’t know what you can do with this mob, and I’m not
sure how you’ll fight with them.”

None
of us was stupid enough to open his
mouth. We waited for the pair, of which the orc was clearly the
commander, to make up their minds and determine our fate.

“Well,
we’ll work with what they sent us,” concluded the orc with a
final glance in our direction. His voice jumped a few decibels.
“Listen up, warriors. I’m Lieutenant Grokkh of the Seventh Free
Company. From this day on, I’m your commander, king, god, father,
mother, grandfather, and everything else.You
will address me using my rank: master lieutenant. And now, listen
carefully to what I’m about to say, as I won’t be repeating it.”

The
lieutenant didn’t tell us anything I didn’t already know.
Everything he described over the next ten minutes I’d already heard
back in my first week of service in the glorious and invincible
Russian Army.The
only difference
was that we had a sergeant yelling at us then
since our lieutenant didn’t bother with newcomers until they’d
been there a couple weeks already. He was busy singing and dancing on
a stage somewhere.

Everything
was exactly the same.
Orders
aren’t to be questioned, and I’ll have both eyes on you. If
something happens, well, you know. They
were different realities, but the hemorrhoids they gave you were
identical. At
least I don’t have to think anymore—they’ll take care of that.

“Well, isn’t
that a nice little sword.” The goblin stopped his self-important
march directly in front of me. “You don’t want to give it to me,
your best friend, do you?”

“Nope,”
I said, pasting an enormous smile on my face. “It was a gift, and
re-gifting
isn’t polite.”

“Listen up, kid. I
can make your life miserable around here,” he replied with a snarl.

“Then
I’ll kill you.” I shrugged. “You’ll die, and I’ll just
switch over from the Free
Companies to the Wild Brigade.”

The
orc caught a glimpse
of the goblin’s narrowing eyes. “What’s going on over there,
Falk?”

“Nothing,
Master
Lieutenant,” the latter replied, his glance following me. “Just
having a word with this warrior over here. We’re going to be
friends to the end; I can already tell.”

“You don’t have
anything better to do?” The orc went back to yelling at us. “Any
questions?”

“Well done, very
good,” the orc grinned. “You haven’t served before, have you?”

“I
have indeed, Master
Lieutenant. In the equally valiant and fearless royal companies of
Fladridge.”

Wait
a second, he might have been to Fladridge. Although, even if he has,
he still wouldn’t know for sure that there’s no such thing.

“I haven’t heard
of them, but their sergeants certainly know what they’re doing.”
There was a note of approval in the master lieutenant’s bellow.
“What’s your question, private?”

“When
do we find out what the schedule for training and campaigns is,
Master
Lieutenant?” I yelled, my eyes popping out. “Just so we make sure
we’re always on time. And avoid any other problems.”

“Good question.
I’ll remember your name, son.”

“Thank
you, Master
Lieutenant,” I barked, spinning on my heel and marching back to my
position in line.

“Remember,
you beasts,” Grokkh
said, his hands on his hips, “we launch campaigns at all hours of
the day and night, and we rarely know where the next danger to
civilians will appear. Your job is to remain always ready for
anything.”

“Hey,
the captain is coming,” squeaked
Falk.

“Warriors,
salute Captain Singkh!”
snapped Grokkh, who also thrust out his barrel-like chest and came to
attention.

“Forget
it, no time for that right now,” a small and older warrior wearing
silver chainmail
replied with a wave of his hand. “What’s going on?”

Grokkh motioned at
us with his chin, and the captain glanced in our direction.

“Ah,
fresh meat. Good timing, too. There was a breakout from the jungle
near Lanook—some treewalkers.
Take fifty of your men along with these kids. If they live, they
live. And if they don’t, well…the good villagers will take care
of their graves. Much better than what we can offer. We’ll port out
in five.”

Grokkh
watched the captain walk away before going back to yelling at us.
“That was Captain Singkh.
He’s the only one who decides who lives and who dies around here,
and his orders are God’s honest truth as far as you’re concerned.
Our company got the order to prepare for battle, and that’s exactly
what we’re going to do. Everyone to that building over
there…march!”

“Seventh
Company, form up!” the goblin’s
squeaky voice piped up near a squat shanty that humans, elves,
dwarves, and even a few cave people (I assumed that’s what they
were, given their size and the lack of a better description) were
pouring out of.

The
whole mob lined up next to the building and looked at the lieutenant
devotedly.
“Okay, troops,” the orc started, hands behind his back. “We’re
heading out for Lanook; they’re having problems with a treewalker
outbreak. Corporals Raikh, Milkus, Troot, Naig, and Dro, your squads
will be taking this one.”

“Master
Lieutenant,
I’m four short of my ten,” boomed a barbarian named Dro.

“I’m short as
well,” an elf named Troot added.

“Agreed,”
nodded Grokkh, “which is why the first four of these
bodies will be joining you, Dro, and the rest you and your ears can
take, Troot. By the way, there’s one who looks like he knows a
thing or two, so use him well.”

The orc pointed at
me, and I immediately assumed a valiant, oafish look to make sure I
fit the part.

“Okay, so that’s
one, but the rest are just sword grease,” the elf muttered in
annoyance. “I only have one veteran left as it is, and with these…”

“Don’t
argue with the master lieutenant,” snapped
the goblin. “You’ll take what you're
given; we don’t have crap else.”

I was convinced the
elf should have boxed the goblin’s ears for that, but, to my
surprise, he just sighed deeply and held his tongue.

“You
have five minutes to
gather, and then we’re porting out,” Grokkh said, holding up his
hand before leaving.

“My
three with me, let’s go,” ordered the elf.

Fattah,
who was also assigned to
the
elf,
the halfling Moldo, and I, ran after him.

“Stay
away from the front;
do your best to survive. If you live through your first battle, you
might make it to the end of your contract. If not, well, you’re out
of luck. Does everyone have a weapon? Excellent.”

Our corporal perked
up at that last bit of news.

While
the group got busy putting their cuirasses, pauldrons,
and other equipment on, I quickly pulled up my map to see how close I
was to my main target. The map showed me that I was smack dab in the
middle of an
enormous expanse
titled the South. The red spot I was looking for was much farther
east of where I was, and I had no shot at trekking my way through the
jungle and savanna that lay in between it and me.Putting
away my map, I started to think, and even rubbed my chin, when I got
a hefty kick from the corporal.

“Warrior, you
should have thought before you signed the contract. You don’t get
to think now; your job is to fight.”

Five minutes later
fifty soldiers were standing on the parade ground ready for battle.

“Go through the
portal with your squad,” the goblin yelled. “Raikh’s squad,
march!”

We
tramped across the firm
ground, equipment jangling, and the first squad dove into the blue
portal. They were followed by the second and third squads, and then
by us.

On
the other side of the portal was a small village made up of straw
houses. I’d seen something like them in Vietnam, where a group of
us journalists had been sent three years before.Vietnam
is no Ireland, and the diseases and snakes left most of my colleagues
with no desire to make the trip. I, as usual, drew the short straw.Anyway,
the huts there looked like what was right in front of me. The same
could not be said of the locals themselves.

Some
kind of shaggy creatures lived in the village. They had monkey-like
faces, and they only came up to my waist.The
little things were being slaughtered by black monsters reminiscent of
short, gnarled trees with long arms and fiery
eyes.The
Raidion developers have to be smoking something. They just have to.
There is no way a healthy person could imagine what I saw there. It
was just a good thing the monsters were only Level 50…

“Raikh’s
squad, you take the southern flank. We may push them that way, so
have your troops ready,” we heard Grokkh call loudly. Oh,
hey, he came with us? The
respect I had for the lieutenant jumped. “Dro, you take the
northern flank since you have all the new kids. Make sure they don’t
circle around behind us—that’s a favorite trick of theirs. The
rest of you, attack from the center in three wedges. Remember, take
out their legs, since that’s their weakest part. And stay away from
their fingers—if they latch onto you, they won’t be letting go.”

Now
that’s a good commander right there. It
was exactly what we needed to hear.

All
three squads started their advance at the same time, encircling the
slaughter in front of us in a pincer movement.Leading
the attack was Raikkh’s
squad, which didn’t have any archers. It did, however, have
unusually strong, well-armed troops representing the humanoid races.

It
suddenly crossed my mind that I’d stopped differentiating between
players and NPCs. We were in the middle of actual war—not a raid,
not a dungeon, and not your usual sword fight.As
far as I could tell, the mission we were on was nothing unusual for
the Free Companies, just another day on the job. And that’s exactly
how everyone around me approached it.

Our
squad got to where the villagers were under attack, and our corporal,
who was at the head of our wedge of seven warriors, quickly dove in
and sliced the legs out from under the first treewalker in our path.It
wobbled and fell, where Ur, a Northerner following behind Troot,
buried his sword in its head.

“Stay
on your toes!”
yelled Troot, though he was just a tad late with his order.

A
treewalker dashed over from the side, hooking his long fingers into
Moldo’s
shoulder and yanking him out of the formation.

Moldo
screamed from fear just as much as from pain, and I dashed after him.
An arrow, probably fired by Fattah, thudded into the treewalker, who
was carrying Moldo along through the air. But there was nothing we
could do; another of the black monsters came over and helped its
friend tear the poor halfling’s body apart.

And
this is supposed to be a game? I
thought. How
did they possibly get a license for something like that?

But
I had no more time to think, as yet another arm snaked toward me. I
threw up my shield, the wooden fingers sliding along it like
fingernails on a chalkboard.Crouching
slightly, I swung parallel to the ground and felt my blade meet and
cut its way through my target.

The beast, its eyes
flashing, toppled over, though its fingers reached for me as it did.
A few jabs at its head finished it off.

The
battle raged all around, though I could tell that we were winning.
The remaining treewalkers turned tail and hopped off
in the direction of the forest. Happy to see them go, the furry
villagers let out a cry of relief, and a few minutes later the whole
thing was over.

You unlocked
Mercenary, Level 1.

To get it,
participate in 49 more battles as a member of the Free Companies or
Wild Brigade.

Reward:

+3% ability
to use your main weapon

+10% respect
in the eyes of your commander (isn’t lost if your commander is
replaced)

To see similar
messages, go to the Action section of the attribute window.

I
didn’t expect an action, but
they were always nice to have.

“Got it?” Fattah
walked over.

I glanced up at him.
“Yep. Hey, you know what I was wondering? If we were to die right
here in this village as part of a mission, where would we respawn,
and where would our things go?”

“You
should really read a guide once in a while,” replied Fattah
indignantly. “That’s one of the benefits you get with the Free
Companies;
when you die, you take your things back with you to the respawn,
which is—”

“That much I
know,” I interrupted him. “Where your unit is. So if everyone’s
here, I’d respawn right back here?”

“Exactly.
They put that in as compensation for all the downsides there are to
joining the Free Companies—you may have come of your own free will,
but this still really limits
what you can do in the game. Just remember that only works for
battles you’re fighting as part of and at the order of the Free
Companies. If you just go jumping into something on your own, you’ll
respawn back with your unit but without your things.”

“Well,
warriors, everyone still alive?” Troot
came over. “That little guy, they ripped him in half, right? That’s
a shame; we’re back to being a man short.”

The
elf walked
quickly back to Grokkh and the other corporals.

“So this is our
life now, day after day,” Fattah said thoughtfully. “For a year.”

“No, I definitely
won’t make it that long,” I replied honestly. “I’ll get out
sooner.”

“If you have the
money, you might as well. I don’t, and I want that ability, so I’m
going to put in my time.”

“What happens if I
can’t log into the game? My clock will still keep ticking, right?”

“Yes, though there
are lots of limitations. You’re fine if you miss a day, but two in
a row means disciplinary measures and kissing the ability goodbye.
You take a pay cut if you miss three to seven, and you get experience
and ability penalties as well as the death list if you miss more than
ten.”

There
wasn’t much room to squeeze around that. If I’d read what people
were writing, I might not have enlisted in the first place. Of
course, I could find the money if I needed to—I had more than
20,000 as it was, and I could borrow the rest. The Witch wouldn’t
turn me down, I figured, and I could ask Gedron as well.If
worst came to worst, I could borrow from the Tearful Goddess Order at
interest. Gunther, I knew, would introduce me to that Brother Yur.
But there was no hurry. And
that’s a lot of money to spend…

Battle
results

Your
participation amounted to 3.84% of the total.

Performance: 1
opponent killed

Reward:

76 gold

520 experience,
of which:

200 is
for the opponent you killed

320 is
your bonus for the battle and victory

Points collected
toward the hidden bonus: 2 of 1000

“Cool!” I
blurted out.

“How much did you
get?” Fattah asked.

“Not much gold,
520 experience. What’s the hidden bonus?”

“Oh,
bro,” Fattah said, his eyes squinting, “you have no idea! Once
you collect a thousand points, you can head to the Wild Brigade
headquarters and open the trunk in the banner room for free. And
there could be anything in there. I
saw a guy once who pulled out a complete set—it wasn’t for his
class, but it had all four items for the set together.True,
you can get crap like a potion or hair coloring, but you’re more
likely to get something good.”

Well,
that’s a plus. I
was getting double the usual experience, and if I really worked at
it…

“Hey,
just one thing—if
you die in battle, the experience you got doesn’t count,” broke
in Fattah.

I sighed. “That’s
a shame.”

“I hear you. Okay,
I’m going to go over and make an appearance with the commanders.”

Fattah walked away,
leaving me to open my map and see where we were.

I’d
gotten lucky;
we were halfway across the South. I wasn’t any closer to my goal,
but I could tell that a couple weeks of battles and campaigns would
give me a decent shot at somewhere close to where I was going.Yeah,
I think I’ll stick around to do some fighting. The
experience was good, and things were lively enough. Of course, there
was another thing I could tell would come in handy. Whatever the
local green runt had planned for me, I didn’t think it would be
that simple. To
be more precise, it will probably be brutal.

Not
everyone lived to see the end of the battle. Besides the poor
halfling, another three warriors found their way to the afterlife,
and I realized why Rourk made sure he sealed the deal with anyone who
walked into the recruitment center. At the rate we were losing
bodies, he had to—and I could only imagine he was getting some
kickbacks
as well.

The
squads lined up next to each other, and I found myself behind a tall
beanpole named Ur. Behind me was Fattah. We all stared at the
lieutenant, who was discussing something with the local leader. He
was just as shaggy as the rest of them, just with feathers around his
head.While
the leader was waving his arms around, he soon stopped, sighed
deeply, and stabbed a finger at the parchment Grokkh was holding.

“What are they
doing?” I asked Ur, gently poking him in the back.

Ur turned his head.
“Ah, one of the newcomers. Their guy marked the paper to prove that
we provided military aid. Now their prince owes us money to
compensate for our losses and expenditures. We wouldn’t be able to
do this if it weren’t for that.”

So
they keep track of the money,
too.

“You
did good work, by the way;
I saw you,” continued Ur. “That wasn’t the first time you’ve
used a sword, I imagine?”

“I’ve been
around the block.” There was no sense hiding the truth. “You’re
from the North?”

“Yep. I was born
near a burg named Foyrin.”

“I know it, I was
just there recently.”

“Seriously?” Ur
perked up. “I haven’t been back in ten years, ever since I left
to wander Fayroll. How are things there? Mind telling me when we get
back?”

“Why not?”

“I’ll introduce
you to the rest of the guys,” Ur promised. “And I can tell you
what to do around here to make sure things aren’t harder than they
have to be.”

“Company,
squad by squad,
into the portal, march!” Grokkh yelled.

And off we walked
into the portal.

Chapter Three

In which we find
that some decisions are made for us.

Our
ten-man squad
(well, nine-man already, since Moldo had been sent on to NPC heaven
without even a taste of all the benefits that come with military
service) turned out to be a good one.Besides
me, Fattah, and big Ur, we had Garron, a talkative southerner; Ping
and Pong, two happy-go-lucky brothers from the East; two westerners,
Mikos and Torn; and Lane, the latest in a long line of trackers from
the Borderlands—an area that split East and West and was, judging
by the one native I’d met, a fun place.Fattah
and I were the only players in our motley band.

The
guys showed us the barracks, which is what the squat buildings near
the parade ground turned out to be. Inside, everything was spartan:
double bunk beds and a few tables with bow-legged
chairs around them.

“The
main thing to remember, gentlemen,” Garron said from his bunk, “is
to hold your sword tightly, keep a close eye on your friends’
backs, and follow the commander’s orders without question. If you
do that, you’ll be fine.I’ve
already been here more than a year, and I’m alive, my stomach is
full, there’s money in my pocket, and I get drunk once a week.
That’s all they allow.”

“Oh,
and stay away from the louse
with the ears,” Lane interjected slowly.

“Right,
that’s important. Don’t get involved with Falk,” Garron added
with a nod. “He’s a rat the likes of which you’d have to do
some searching to find.”

I tensed up a
little. “I already got involved with him.”

“Your first
mistake,” Torn said from one of the top bunks. “Watch your back
now. What did you guys talk about?”

“He
liked the look of my sword,” I answered honestly. “The
problem is that I like it, too.”

Ping whistled; Pong
grinned.

“Should’ve
just given it to him,” said Mikos,
who was busy digging in a chest he’d pulled out from under his bed.
“Your life’s going to be miserable until you do, and he might
just try to kill you.”

“What’s wrong
with him?” I was really starting to get nervous. A goblin-faced
terror haunting my dreams was the last thing I needed.

The
group jostled to tell me Falk’s
unusually interesting, nay infamous, life story.He
was, in fact, a mountain goblin.They
were a quirky breed of villains that weren’t as easily distracted
by shiny nothings or their empty stomachs.Of
course, eating and thieving were part of who they were, but they also
made for decent strategists, excellent spies, and the dirtiest
operators in Fayroll.

Somehow—and
probably through some sort of misunderstanding—this particular
example saved Grokkh’s
life ten years before, back when Grokkh was just a sergeant serving
in the Ripa Mountains.The
then-sergeant’s
entire squad had been killed in an unsuccessful raid, and he was
forced to drag himself through the snow to the nearest outpost. Why
Falk decided to save him rather than bury him in an avalanche nobody
knew. Ever since, the two had been inseparable, with the little green
beast forgiven for any trouble he got into—and he got into a good
bit of trouble.

“That’s why we
try to keep our distance,” Mikos concluded sadly.

“If only he would
keep his distance from us,” Ping chimed in with a smile.

“That he doesn’t
want to do. Never has,” confirmed Pong.

It
was a shame, but I was having a hard time picturing what the goblin
could actually do to me, even if Grokkh had his back.He
could spit at me, but I figured I could deal with that.

The
group then informed us that there were three companies in Dinjir: the
Third, our Seventh, and the Ninth. The Ninth was going through a
rough patch, as they’d had their rears handed to them by nomads
from the Sinrin Plains.Something
spooked them, or maybe they’d had too much to drink—everyone knew
how much the tribes like their fermented milk—either way, they’d
climbed down off their camels and cornered the Ninth Company in a
ravine.The
battle was fierce; only about a seventh of ours survived, and the
company was waiting for reinforcements. It was strange we’d been
sent to the Seventh rather than to the Ninth.

Regardless,
Garron was right;
the service wasn’t bad, so long as you followed the rules and kept
your head down.We
were paid once every two weeks, there was one day off a week, and you
could even use the squad’s stationary portal if you wanted to.

“What do you mean,
stationary?” Fattah’s eyebrows shot up.

“Each
area has
a portal that’s always open and pointed toward the nearest
capital,” explained Torn as he hung down from his bunk. “In our
case, that’s Maykong, the capital of the South, stronghold
of the principalities, and the residence of High Prince of Light
Mustail the Second and the Beautiful.”

“And
he’s just a nasty guy,” Lane
said. “A real brute. There’s a snake out in the jungle called a
ringhal—it’s
beautiful, but if it bites you, just order yourself a casket right
then and there. The prince is even worse.”

“Lane’s
had his problems with Mustail,” Ping whispered loudly to us. Pong
nodded as if to say that, yes, Lane obviously had plenty of problems
with the ruler of the South, but the brothers weren’t going to say
a word about them.

“And
really just anyone can use the portal?” Fattah couldn’t care less
what disagreements a hired sword
might have with the Prince of Light.

“What
do you mean, ‘just anyone?”
Torn replied. “Only if you’re serving in the Free Companies, and
you have to show your pass to the portal guard.”

I made a mental
note—going to see the capital sounded like a good idea.

“Seventh Company,
form up!” we heard the goblin squeal, and all of us ran toward the
parade ground.

“You
don’t get much peace and quiet in the Free Companies,” I said to
Fattah once we’d gotten back from a small town besieged by
repulsive crab-like creatures that walked on two legs for some
reason.We
had
been sent withthe
Third Company
to push them back into the jungle, and it hadn’t been easy.

“That’s
for sure,” he agreed, pulling out a pipe and packing some tobacco
into it. “On the other hand, we’re piling up experience.
I leveled up.”

“Nice.” I winked
at him wearily. “Okay, I’m headed home.”

“Yeah,
our five hours is up.” The elf checked the timer on his interface
before catching my questioning glance and rolling his eyes. Why
does nobody ever read the guides?
I could hear him thinking.